


dark paradise

by BooyahFordhamYacht



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Brainwashing, Endgame Merthur, Everyone Loves Merlin (Merlin), F/M, Good Morgana (Merlin), Happy Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Knights (Merlin), Trauma, Whump, everyone knows, slowburn i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooyahFordhamYacht/pseuds/BooyahFordhamYacht
Summary: merlin's been brainwashed. he's terrified of the very people that would do anything to save him.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Knights & Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot & Merlin (Merlin), Leon/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 495





	1. one

When Arthur wakes up, he’s startled by the silence. 

Merlin is always awake before the knights, and usually it’s his shuffling around that wakes Arthur. He’s always moving firewood, tending the fire, bringing out pots and pans to get breakfast going before the men wake. He always makes far too much noise in the process, waking them anyways. This morning, Arthur wakes to the soft chirping of a distant dove and the utter lack of shuffling. It’s quiet. Too quiet.

Arthur jumps to his feet, unsheathing his sword in the process, praying that he’ll startle a certain manservant. Praying Merlin will whirl around, hand to his chest at the noise and then laugh when he sees the panic on Arthur’s face, mocking him all morning. No such luck. There’s no one awake, no red neckerchief to be seen and Arthur can feel the panic rising in his throat like bile. 

“Merlin?” he calls, and the knights around him begin to wake up, first confused and then frightened, angry, concerned when they hear the tone of complete panic in Arthur’s voice as he calls for Merlin. “MERLIN!!!” Arthur screams. Nothing. His horse is here, his cot still rolled out beside Arthur’s, but Merlin is nowhere to be found.

Gwaine is the first one to his feet after Arthur, followed by the other knights. “What happened? Where is he?” Gwaine says, worry in his eyes and a fierce look on his face. Arthur’s usually logical mind is racing. Elyan puts a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, probably telling him to breathe. Arthur can’t hear him. Arthur feels like he’s underwater, like the men around him are speaking to him through a lake.

“I- I don’t know,” Arthur stutters. “I don’t know! I woke up and he was gone!” Arthur can’t help it. He’s freaking out. 

“We’ll find him, Arthur. We have to find him.” Gwaine says, reassuring, but the fear and anger in his eyes are more telling than his words. 

Leon and Percival come darting back; from where, Arthur isn’t sure. “There aren’t any tracks!” Leon pants. “Nowhere! We took a lap around camp, there’s no sign that anyone was here or even that Merlin left.”

Lancelot’s face seems to lose any hope it had previously held. “Arthur, you don’t think-”

Arthur’s already nodding. “Magic.”

* * *

Merlin’s cold. Merlin is so, so cold. That’s the first thing he notices when he begins to wake up. He’s freezing and his head hurts. 

Then, of course, there is the aching in his arms. As his senses come back to him, Merlin ascertains that he’s tied by the wrists, hanging from a hook of some kind, and that his feet just brush the floor if he reaches. That means no rest for his arms, and no good blood flow to his hands, either.  _ Fantastic.  _ That certainly won’t help with the cold feeling.

His sight is blurred, probably thanks to whatever smacked him hard enough to give him a headache like this. 

When Merlin finally makes out the shapes around him, he’s in a cave. A wet one - he can hear water trickling somewhere behind him. He smells food, and rain on the wind. Rain’s never good when he’s hoping to get rescued - it makes tracking harder. Merlin hopes the knights can come up with something else to find him. 

Almost as if it had read his mind, a voice from behind him rasps “they’re not coming.” 

“They’re my friends, of course they’re coming.” Merlin says, almost scoffing at the suggestion that they wouldn’t come for him.

“Adorable,” snipes the voice, “that you think they’re your friends. That they  _ care  _ about you. No, not adorable.  _ Pathetic. _ ” 

“Show yourself.” Merlin says, refusing to let his voice waver. He knows he should feel more scared than this, but he trusts his friends. He’s been kidnapped before, and they’ve always come for him. They’ll come for him. 

“Hm, I think not.” the voice chuckles. Merlin can sense that the owner of this voice has magic, and that does make him slightly more nervous. “I will, however, show you what your  _ friends _ are up to.” 

A hand touches the back of his head, and suddenly Merlin is standing in the castle in Camelot, watching the round table knights in the armory. 

_ Gwaine laughs at something Percival has said, tossing a breastplate at him goodnaturedly.  _

_ Leon is quick to reprimand Gwaine(a glint in his eye despite it), and Gwaine holds his hands up in mock surrender. _

_ “You can’t go chucking armor at him every time he jokes around, Gwaine. You two will never last.” Elyan laughs, and now it’s his time to duck out of the way of a flying helmet - this time from Percival.  _

_ “That’s my guy!” Gwaine beams, and Percival laughs. Elyan gives them both a miffed look and returns to taking his own armor off.  _

Wait, why is he taking his armor off?  _ Merlin thinks, confused by the scene before him.  _ They need to be suiting up, they need to be coming after me! I need them!  _ Merlin steps further into the room. _

_ Lancelot, too, is taking his armor off, putting his training sword back on the rack. “Did you see Arthur and I sparring today? I had him on the ropes!” Lancelot crows, and the other knights laugh.  _

_ “You reckon he called training short today because he knew he was about to lose?” Gwaine jokes, and Merlin’s heart thumps.  _

Here we go,  _ he thinks,  _ Arthur ended practice because they’ve got a lead on where I am, that’s why everyone’s happy, that’s why they’re changing. They’re coming for me. 

_ Lancelot laughs loudly at Gwaine, and Merlin hears a noise from the hallway. It’s Arthur, entering with a man Merlin doesn’t recognize trailing behind him.  _

_ “Good training today, knights.” Arthur says. Merlin holds his breath, waiting for news about his rescue. “Lancelot, your technique has come a long way, recently. You should be very proud. Gwaine and Percival, thanks for tearing your eyes from each other long enough to train today. Leon, Elyan, strong sparring today. You two are a good match.” Arthur graciously ignores Elyan sticking his tongue out at Leon, and turns to leave the room. “Get some rest, men. We’ll start training after lunch, tomorrow.” _

_ Arthur’s departure is met with cheering from Gwaine at the news of the late start, and the king calls a warning about coming to training hungover over his shoulder as he leaves. _

_ As soon as Arthur’s out of earshot, Gwaine turns to his fellow knights. “Did you see that new bloke Arthur’s got as a manservant? He won’t last three days!” Gwaine laughs, earning himself another reprimanding from Leon about the dangers of gossiping.  _

  
What is happening?  _ Merlin thinks.  _ They just moved on? This can’t be real. They wouldn’t forget about me. They wouldn’t. They didn’t.  _ The scene before Merlin begins to fade. Tired, confused, and scared, he lets the darkness take him. _


	2. two

Arthur paces his chambers, restless, It’s been three days since Merlin disappeared, and there’s been no sign of him. 

Three days of Percival not sleeping, standing guard at the gates for any sign of news.

Three days of Lancelot refusing to eat, eyes distant. 

Three days of Gwaine being silent, no jokes, no laughter.

Three days of Leon beating himself up - he’s the eldest, he should have protected Merlin. He failed.

Three days of Elyan worrying over everyone, trying to feed them, trying to get them to rest and recover so that when they have news, they’ll be ready. 

Three days of Gaius, Gwen, and Morgana pouring over every book they have, looking for any spell Morgana might use to track Merlin down. 

Three days of Arthur feeling like half of him is missing, constantly feeling like he’s  _ wrong _ . It keeps him awake at night, gnaws at him. 

Arthur, though he’d been resistant at first when Morgana had announced her magic, now prays more than anything that she can do this, that she can find Merlin. That they can save Merlin. 

He walks through the castle aimlessly - it’s late, and most of Camelot is asleep by now. He passes Gwaine, pulling a half-asleep Percival to their room, whose body has apparently given up on him after being awake for more than 72 hours. Even still, he can hear Percival protesting. Gwaine doesn’t speak, just drags him along. 

Leon is coaxing a spellbook out of Morgana’s hands when Arthur passes her chambers, the bags under her eyes more prominent than Arthur’s ever seen him. 

“In the morning, my love. You’re no use to Merlin if you’re too weak to perform the spell.” Arthur pauses a moment to watch as Morgana relents, and Leon gives her a now-rare smile for her cooperation. She lies down, and Leon sits on the bed beside her, apparently planning to keep watch over her while she sleeps. 

It’s sweet, and yet it makes Arthur’s heart ache. He continues down the hall, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. It isn’t too late for him and Merlin. It can’t be. They  _ will  _ find Merlin, and Arthur will tell him, and they will finally have their chance. Finally. 

Elyan passes, carrying a tray of food in the direction of Lancelot and Gwen’s room. Arthur hopes that Gwen and Elyan have finally worn him down, convinced him to eat something. 

Arthur’s men, his dearest friends, are broken and hurting, and there’s nothing he can do because he is too. He can’t offer them any support, because he has nothing to give. 

* * *

  
  


_ Merlin wakes up slowly, to the sound of horses in the distance. Finally. They’re here! He rejoices at the sound, and calls out to them. “Arthur!” he shouts.  _

_ He can hear Gwaine’s voice. It’s so welcome. He’d missed being constantly annoyed by the jokes and laughs, but hearing his voice again is a promise that Merlin will be safe again.  _

_ “GWAINE!” Merlin calls, and the horses come to a stop outside the entrance to the cave. The cave slopes upward past the entrance, so Merlin can only see the legs and belly of the horses, and the boots of their riders, but he can hear their voices. _

_ “George has been an excellent manservant,” it’s Arthur’s voice, and he sounds… strange. Not panicked, not excited, not at all like someone coming to rescue him. “He’s respectful, quiet, and easy to be around.” Arthur comments, and Merlin is so confused. _

_ A new voice chimes in, which Merlin quickly realizes as Leon. “My lord, I must say it is wonderful to see how calm you’ve been these last few days. George seems to be good for you.”  _

_ Gwaine guffaws. “Leon’s being kind. What he means is, he’s glad to see you’re capable of sanity when you have the right servant working for you!”  _

_ Elyan’s laugh hits Merlin like a ton of bricks, hearing the lighthearted tone his friends(are they his friends) use talking about the man who replaced Merlin, almost like they’re not coming. Like they don’t care. _

_ Lancelot hums in agreement with Gwaine. “I always appreciate a servant who knows his place,” Lancelot says, and Merlin’s heart breaks.  _

_ “I’ll drink to that!” Gwaine says, and Percival lets out a huge bark of laughter. _

_ “Gwaine, you fool, you’ll drink to anything.” Percival tells him. _

_ Merlin watches the horse hooves trot away from the cave, horrified. Desperate, he screams their names, but if they hear him, they don’t turn around. One by one, the hooves disappear, and Merlin is alone, sobbing. _

Merlin wakes with a start, gasping for air. He finds that he’s crying, cheeks wet with tears, out of breath. He also finds that he’s now on the ground, wrists still bound, one ankle chained to the cave wall. He’d wonder the reason for the shift, but imagines the answer isn’t pretty and shakes it from his mind.

“Sleep well?” the voice, again. 

“Sod off,” Merlin spits, wiping his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Footsteps, and a sorcerer - the owner of the voice - comes into view. He’s built, looks murderous. 

“It’s really sweet, how long you’ve held out. I’ve put you through hundreds of hallucinations, hundreds of visions about your so called friends, and still your mind refuses me. You refuse to hate them. You refuse to give up on them. Very well.” The sorcerer crouches down towards Merlin’s face, and Merlin has to restrain himself from spitting in the man’s face - provocation is not his friend, he’s learned. 

The sorcerer places his hand on Merlin’s shin, and immediately a burning pain spreads out through his body. Merlin grits his teeth and tries not to cry out. As the pain worsens, he starts to scream.

Some time later - whether it’s hours or seconds, Merlin isn’t sure, but he caves, and he screams for Arthur. He just wants the pain to stop. He screams his friends’ names, and they don’t show up. In his pain, he doesn’t see the man’s eyes light up when he begins to shout for his friends. 

“New plan,” the sorcerer tells Merlin. “I can’t make you hate them, but I can make you fear them.”

With a touch to his head, Merlin falls unconscious. 

* * *

It’s been nearly two weeks when they finally crack it. 

Gwen and Lancelot come flying into Arthur’s chambers, eyes wild.

“She did it!” Gwen pants. “Morgana found him!”

Arthur shoots out of his chair so fast he knocks over the drink on his desk. “Where?”


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is, um, not pleasant.
> 
> please do not read if references to torture or evidence of ptsd will disturb you in any way.

It’s only a two hour ride, yet the closeness makes Arthur feel worse. Merlin had been right under their noses the whole time, and yet they couldn’t find him.

Morgana leads the charge, following a trail that Merlin’s magic had left. Arthur, who had been wary of magic at first(not wary of Merlin, never Merlin), finds himself thanking the gods that his beloved manservant has magic. 

They’re all silent on the ride, charging as fast as they can, panicked and fearful, yet hopeful. They’ve found him, Arthur can only pray. 

The cave entrance is hidden almost well enough, but Morgana backtracks once and gets it, pointing through a thicket to a cave Arthur hadn’t even seen. 

Arthur goes in first, his knights and Morgana close behind(Gwen had wanted to come, but between Morgana, Elyan, and Lancelot, there was no way that was happening). 

Merlin’s slumped on the ground, chained a wall, wrists bound. Arthur’s breath catches at the sight of him - he’s covered in bruises, what’s left of his clothes bloodied and torn. Arthur rushes to him. 

“Merlin?” he says, and places a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.

Blue eyes open with a snap. “Please don’t hurt me!” Merlin croaks, voice weary. Arthur’s chest feels tight.

“Merlin, look at me.” Merlin begins to thrash, and Arthur feels like he can’t breathe. “Merlin, it’s Arthur,  _ please  _ calm down-” At the mention of Arthur’s name, Merlin screams, trying to drag himself away.

“NO!!! No, Arthur, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, please don’t hurt me!” Arthur lifts his hands from Merlin, confused and concerned. 

Morgana, heart wrenching in her chest, steps forward and casts a sleeping spell over Merlin, who goes limp. “To get him back to Camelot,” she tells Arthur, who can only nod blankly at her.  _ What happened to Merlin? Why is he afraid of me?  _

Percival steps forward, eyes brimming with tears, and scoops Merlin up, careful of his more obvious wounds. 

“So you did come for him,” A voice cuts from the shadows, and all the knights(and Morgana) draw their swords at once. Percival is the only one unarmed, stepping behind the other knights, preparing to shield Merlin with his body if he has to. 

“Who’s there?” Arthur demands, and a man steps from the shadows, hands raised.

“It doesn’t matter who I am, Arthur.” 

“What did you do to him?” Gwaine shouts, and Leon, always a step head, puts an arm in front of Gwaine to keep him from lunging forward. 

“You should have heard him. The way he  _ screamed  _ for you.” The man smiles, and his words make nausea rise in Arthur. “When I cut him, it was Lancelot and Elyan he begged for, thinking that they would protect him.” The knights in question visibly react - Lancelot looks murderous, and Elyan looks sick at the thought of Merlin needing him. “I made him think he was burning, and he cried for Leon and Morgana, because she could help him. But she didn’t help him. You never came,” he says, looking directly at Morgana. 

Morgana puts a hand over her mouth, crying. Leon steps in front of her. “Don’t speak to her,” he snarls.

“Any time I hit him, it was big, strong Percival he cried for, and Gwaine, to protect him.” 

Percival visibly curls in on Merlin, still limp in his arms. Gwaine growls and Leon gears to catch him again. Though he too wants to kill the man, he can’t be sure the man doesn’t have information they need to help Merlin. Leon can’t take that risk. Not like this. Not when it’s Merlin he’s risking. 

“When I let him sleep, he dreamt of all of you, and whimpered for Arthur. He is so loyal to you, never gave me anything. So I did the only thing I could do. His hallucinations made him fear all of you, made him believe it was all of you hurting him. And I kept going, until he was begging for you all to stop hurting him, instead of begging for you to save him.”

Arthur looks nauseous. “Why?” 

The man smiles, a sickened smile that makes Arthur’s blood boil. “It was fun.”

That appears to be more than Arthur can take, and he lunges, Excalibur glinting in the light. The man - a sorcerer - flicks Arthur into the wall of the cave, and Morgana steps up, eyes burning. Leon watches, trusting her power but ready to jump in if need be. He won’t let anything happen to her, he’d rather die. 

She’s more than a match for the bastard. 

The sorcerer sends some of the cave crashing down on the knights, but Morgana easily shields them. “Go!” She yells, a green barrier the only thing between the knights and several tons of rock. Percival runs first, simply because he’s holding Merlin, and Gwaine follows after his partner. Leon is the only one who refuses to leave.

Lancelot, helping Arthur out of the cave, turns back for him. “She can do this,” he tells Leon, “don’t distract her.”

Leon hesitates, but Morgana gives him a nod and he relents, helping Lancelot with Arthur and rushing out. 

They wait, listening to the crashing from within the cave. A few moments later, Morgana walks out and brings the entire cave down behind her. She stumbles into Leon and he wastes no time catching her and holding her close. 

“He’s dead,” Morgana says, cold. “I burned him alive.”

Elyan, softhearted Elyan, pats Morgana on the shoulder. “Good.”

The ride back to Camelot is silent. Merlin is put with Morgana so as to not overburden any of the horses. He only begins to stir once, and Morgana quickly puts him back to sleep. 

Elyan cries, silently. None of them mention it. 

Gwen and Gaius are waiting on the castle steps, and Lancelot rushes to Gwen, obviously in need of comfort. She hugs him, and then sees the state of Merlin as Percival takes him from Morgana, Leon helping Morgana down after him. Gaius is immediately at his side, ordering Percival to carry him into their chambers. 

The next several hours are a flurry of commotion. Gaius needs water and rags and help rolling Merlin and sends Lancelot and Gwen for fresh herbs, and enlists Morgana’s magic, which also means Leon since he won’t leave her. 

Morgana informs Gaius of what the sorcerer had said about Merlin’s brainwashing, and much to the knights’ chagrin, the healer and the witch are on the same page - Morgana can help the process along, but the only thing that will truly heal Merlin’s trust in them is time and patience. 

It’s by no means the answer they were hoping for, but at least there is a way to help him. At least this isn’t permanent.

Gaius orders them all to get rest when they realize that the sun is closer to rising than setting. They refuse, but he kicks them out anyway.

This results in five knights, a king, a maid and a witch sitting in the corridor, all exhausted but determined. Morgana, nestled between Arthur and Leon, looks as though she’s about to faint. She’s been exhausting her magic all day, and Leon, though he knew it to be a waste of time, tried to get her to return to her chambers to rest.

“He thought I would hurt him,” Arthur says, plainly, brokenly, and none of them respond. Morgana puts a hand on top of his, giving him a soft, reassuring smile, and they sit like that, all of them silent, until daybreak. 


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i remain weak for perwaine. again, i PROMISE it will get happier(at some point)

The rising sun brings Merlin back to consciousness, and he blinks. Gaius’s chambers? He’s never hallucinated this before. It’s always been the knights or Morgana or Arthur, never Gaius. Gwen is the first person he sees. She’s wiping his face down with a cool cloth, and gives him a soft, restrained smile when her eyes meet his.

“Hi,” she says, and he blinks.

Gwen would never hurt him. He doesn’t want to imagine her hurting him. “Please,” he croaks, “please don’t make me see her. Please, she’s my best friend, please…” he whimpers, and Gwen’s face twists into something like agony.

  
“Merlin, you’re not hallucinating. This is real. I’m here. You’re safe.” She says. Merlin isn’t listening. 

Merlin sits up just far enough to curl into a ball and shut his eyes. “She’s my best friend, please, please, please. I can’t do this anymore!”

  
“Merlin!” Gwen tries again, louder this time. “I’m real! You’re safe. You’re in Gaius’s chambers.” 

At the sound of their voices, Arthur bursts in, which was the wrong thing to do. Merlin recoils. “NO!” he yells. 

“Merlin, it’s Arthur! I’m not going to hurt you.” He says, arms lifted in surrender.

Merlin stares. “You’re not real. I screamed and screamed for you, but you never came. You didn’t save me. I needed you!” he cries, and Arthur’s heart  _ breaks _ . He failed Merlin. The one person he promised himself he would always be there for. 

“Merlin, please.” he steps closer, slowly. “I’m real. We came for you. We saved you. You’re safe now.” 

“I’ve been here before,” Merlin tells Arthur. “Every night you save me, and you tell me I’m safe and I believe you, and everything is good again until I wake up cold and alone and in pain, and  _ you’re not coming.  _ I believe you every night.”

Arthur’s cheeks feel cold, and it occurs to him that he’s crying. 

“Merlin…” Arthur says. He can’t think of anything to say that might help him. 

Well, there is one thing. The nuclear option. “I love you!” Arthur blurts, and Merlin blinks at him.

“You always say that, right before things go bad.” 

“No, Merlin, I’m real and I love you and I’m not going to hurt you!” Arthur feels helpless. 

“He just makes me hallucinate you saying that because he knows it’s what I want, more than anything. The easiest way to hurt me.” Merlin gives a bitter chuckle. “It used to help, dreaming of you. It was a break from the pain, a chance to feel safe just for a moment. Now, it’s the most painful part.” Merlin says, cold. “I want to wake up now.”

“Merlin, you are awake.” Gwen, who has been watching with a horrified look on her face, steps in.    
  


“No, I’m not. If I was awake, I’d be alone.”

Arthur runs from the room and vomits in the hallway. 

* * *

Gwaine and Percival get the first night’s watch over Merlin. 

They sit together on the floor, and Gwaine leans heavily against Percival. 

Percival is concerned with how quiet Gwaine is. Whether angry, sad, happy, defeated, drunk, or anywhere between, Gwaine is never quiet. Hell, the man talks in his sleep! Now, Percival has heard him say maybe three words since they returned to Camelot. It worries him. 

He takes one of Gwaine’s hands in his, plays with his fingers. “Talk to me,” he murmurs to Gwaine, quietly so as not to disturb a sleeping Merlin. 

Gwaine just shakes his head. 

“Gwaine, please. I don’t know how to help you if you won’t talk to me.”

“Perce,” Gwaine sighs.

“Please?” 

Another sigh. “He’s my best friend.” A long silence follows. “He’s my best friend, and he looked right at us and felt nothing but fear. I don’t know how to reconcile that. I can’t help him. I can’t do anything.” Gwaine’s voice is quiet and subdued and Percival wants to tell him that everything will be fine, but he’s never lied to Gwaine and he doesn’t want to start now.

“You can be there for him.” Percival offers, feeling useless.

“He doesn’t want that, though, does he?” Gwaine is bitter and angry and concerned and Percival is at a loss for words. 

“Gwaine,” a voice murmurs, and it takes a moment for the two knights to realize it’s coming from Merlin. 

Gwaine perks up, hoping maybe Merlin is asking for him. 

It’s silent for a beat. “Gwaine, please,” Merlin’s sleeptalking. 

Both knights listen in. “Gwaine, I’m sorry, I’ll do better.”

Gwaine takes in a sharp breath. Percival wishes there was anything he could do. He wishes this was a physical enemy, something he could fight and conquer and vanquish for Gwaine, something he could make better.

“Please, just don’t hurt me anymore.” Merlin mutters, and then Gwaine is up and out the door. 

Percival follows after a moment. Gwaine doesn’t need to see him cry, not right now. 

He is unsurprised to find Gwaine sitting just outside the doorway - Gwaine knows Percival will always come after him, and he’d never leave Merlin unattended. 

Percival stands in the threshold. Gwaine’s sitting, arms around his knees and face buried, shoulders shaking. 

“Come back inside,” Percival says, voice soft.

“I can’t.”

“You can. Merlin needs you. Come on, I’ll be there with you.” Percival coaxes. 

Slowly, Gwaine lifts his bleary face and nods. He lets Percival pull him to his feet, and Percival lets his hand linger on Gwaine’s shoulder. 

Gwaine gives him a small, bitter smile. “Thank you, Perce.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Elyan is worried about Merlin, and he’s worried about his friends and his sister. It feels like these days all he does is worry. He has watch the third night with Lancelot, who has been utterly shattered by all of this. It makes sense. Lancelot considers Merlin his best friend(many of the knights do, Elyan knows) and would give up his life for him: to be rendered powerless as Merlin suffers has not been easy for any of them, Lancelot especially. 

Merlin has nightmares every night. Last night, Leon barely managed to get out of the way of a flying pot that Merlin, in his sleep, had launched across the room. Apparently sleep-magic is a concern. 

Elyan sits beside a silent Lance, who stares at the sleeping Merlin. The only sign that Lancelot is still in there is the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

Elyan may not be able to help Merlin, but he can get his other friends through this. 

“After the incident with the boy in the well, I had a hard time sleeping.” Elyan says. 

Lancelot barely gives any sign that he’s listening except for the slightest shift of his eyes in Elyan’s direction. 

“I had nightmares and tried to avoid sleep as much as possible. The nightmares set me on edge, and the sleep deprivation made me grumpy, sluggish, and sick. It felt like my head was full of cotton. Merlin noticed. I don’t know how. I think I snapped at him or something one day, and he figured it out. He could have gotten mad at me, could have been upset that I had been rude, but he didn’t. He didn’t quit on me. Merlin got me out of training with Arthur to keep me from getting hurt. He brought me every single sleeping potion Gaius could dream up, and when none of those were sufficient, spent weeks pouring over all the magic books to find something that might help.” Elyan remembers Merlin’s dedication fondly, and glances over at the sleeping warlock.

“Eventually, he found something: there was a bit of the well water still in my bloodstream, so the haunting clung to me. Merlin found a spell to cleanse me of it. You should have seen the look on his face when he came to tell me - he was  _ overjoyed  _ that there was some way for him to help me.” Elyan says. “It took forever, but he never gave up. Merlin loves us. Merlin would never give up on us, and he knows, somewhere deep down, that we won’t give up on him.”

Elyan lets Lancelot process that. He’s not expecting an answer, is caught off guard by Lance’s raspy voice. “I can’t lose him.” 

“I know,” Elyan tells him. He scoots closer to Lancelot so that their shoulders and thighs are touching. “You won’t.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Leon is woken up by Morgana shooting up in bed beside him. “Dream transference!” she gasps, and Leon blinks the sleep from his eyes. 

“W-what?” he asks. 

“Dream transference!” she repeats, but he’s still lost. “I can get into Merlin’s dreams. Maybe he’ll be more receptive if I meet him there! Access his subconscious.”

Leon frowns. It’s been a long week since they brought Merlin home. Morgana has been working nonstop on possible ways to speed the healing of Merlin’s mind, plus caring for her friends. She sees the doubt on his face, and glares at him.

It’s that petty  _ don’t you trust me?  _ glare Leon is so familiar with and he almost laughs, but lies back in surrender. Morgana accepts this as an apology and explains further.

“I’ve done it before. Not for this purpose, but it can be done. And subconsciously, Merlin  _ knows _ we would never hurt him. The problem is he’s having trouble discerning what’s real and what’s not. His magic is confused, and it’s poisoning his mind. He needs someone to talk to him and tell him what’s what, tell him that this is all really happening.” Morgana’s eyes glint with her magic, which tells Leon she’s really confident about this. 

He’s quiet, purely because he doesn’t know enough to say anything. 

“I can do this.” Morgana tells him. Leon does know that. If anyone can do it, it’s Morgana.

“I believe you.”


	5. five

Morgana casts the spell over Merlin to keep him asleep. It’s late - the moon is high in the sky, making everything in Gaius’s chambers glow white. She holds the sleeping draft Gaius made for her, and glances back.

Leon, Arthur, and Gwen are the only ones Gaius has allowed to join them for this, and Morgana can hear the boys shifting restlessly outside the door. (Leon is here for her, simply because he refused to be excluded, Gwen is assisting Gaius, and Arthur… well, that one’s easy). 

“Remember, Morgana, it’s not safe for you to stay in his mind too long. Meddling isn’t a good idea, and the less you do it, the better.” Gaius says. Morgana nods. 

She takes a long look at the people in front of her. 

Arthur looks hopeful. Morgana knows how badly he needs this to work, and worries about what might happen to him if it fails. 

Gwen and Gaius both look determined. They have been her constants in all this, both when they were looking for Merlin and when they were looking for a way to save Merlin. 

Leon just looks nervous. She sighs. 

“Morgana,” he murmurs, soft, and Morgana melts. 

“It’s going to be alright,” she tells him. Morgan puts her hand on his cheek, and he leans into her touch, eyes closed. She loves him, and she knows he loves her. Leon is the best thing that’s ever happened to her, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid to risk herself. It doesn’t change her mind.

“Be safe.” 

Morgana nods. “I love you.” 

She understands why he’s nervous about her doing this: Gaius had flat out said that dream transference has never been used in this capacity, and even in more controlled situations, that kind of magic can damage the mind. Morgana’s nervous too, but she has to do this. She has to save Merlin, or at least try. 

Morgana presses a kiss to Leon’s cheek and turns back towards Merlin. He’s still fast asleep, and Morgana is struck by how very  _ Merlin  _ he looks, calm in his sleep. 

With one last look back at her friends - no, her  _ family _ , Morgana sits on the other cot, downs the sleeping draft, and lies down. 

Sleep comes for her quickly. 

It feels like she’s falling, and when she opens her eyes, she finds that she is. Morgana lands quickly, softly, in dirt, the thump swallowed by the thick air around her. Grey smoke surrounds her, and wherever she is, it’s murky enough that she can hardly see a foot in front of her. Merlin’s mind is not a calming place.

Morgana can hear what she thinks is Arthur’s voice, and stumbles towards the sound. “You’re worthless!” Dream Arthur shouts, and Morgana realizes that Merlin is dreaming about whatever the sorcerer made him hallucinate in the cave. 

Just as soon as she gets closer to Arthur’s voice, it disappears.

She hears Gwaine next, this time coming from behind her. “You never were good enough to  _ really  _ be our friend, Merlin.” 

Elyan, a little to her left. “We don’t want the likes of  _ you  _ around here.”

Leon, further off, and his voice is so familiar to her that she almost stops, but forces herself to keep moving. “You’re a bastard nobody!”

Percival next. “You’re nobody.”

Lancelot. “I can’t believe you thought I was your friend! Pathetic.”

Each time someone speaks, Morgana gets a better estimation of where Merlin is. He has to be in the center of the voices. She keeps moving forward into the grey smoke, the men shouting insults, until it’s her own voice that brings her to a halt.

“Arthur should have killed you when he had the chance.” The sound of her own voice saying something so cruel makes Morgana want to vomit, but her efforts have been rewarded. In the smoke, Morgana can see a figure. It’s undeniably Merlin, and she rushes forward.

“Merlin!” She calls as soon as she can make him out more clearly, and he jerks toward the noise. He’s sitting on the ground, arms wrapped around his knees, curled away from the voices of his friends shouting at him. 

Merlin looks at her, confused. “Morgana?”

She drops to her knees beside him. “Merlin, thank God.” 

“What is happening? You’ve never done this to me before!” Merlin shouts at the sky, and Morgana is confused for a moment before realizing that he thinks he’s talking to his captor, that he’s still chained up in that cave. 

Morgana’s heart breaks for her friend even more, and she wishes she’d made the sorcerer’s death a slower one. There’s time for regrets later though. Right now her only concern is Merlin. 

“No, Merlin, you’re not hallucinating. You’re not in that cave any more. We rescued you. You’re safe.” Morgana tells him, but he shakes his head.

“I’m not. They’re not coming for me.” He says.

“Who’s not coming?” 

“My frie- the knights. The real you. You don’t care, you’re not coming for me. You’ve left me here to die!” Merlin sobs. Again, Morgana finds herself wishing that she’d at least tortured the sorcerer, just a little bit. 

Morgana feels panic growing in her. She doesn’t have much longer before she has to pull out, she knows. “That’s not true. You’re asleep in Gaius’s chambers right now, I’m using my magic to jump into your dream.” Merlin’s eyes go big at the mention of magic, and she sees her way in.

Merlin stops crying. “What?”

“Yeah, since we both have magic I can access your dreams. I thought it would help me talk to you.” 

“He doesn’t know about my magic,” Merlin whispers, and Morgana clutches onto that.

“And I do. Because I’m real. It’s me, Merlin.” She tells him, and for good measure she puts her palm out. A vision of the knights and Morgana rescuing Merlin plays above her hand.

Merlin watches, still not daring to believe it. 

“He told me you weren’t coming, that you didn’t care.” 

“He lied. We didn’t sleep, didn’t take breaks. It took us two weeks, and I’m sorry that it took so long, but we never gave up on you. We love you, Merlin.” 

Morgana sees it, the second it happens. The light in his eyes that makes Merlin so very  _ Merlin _ has been gone since Merlin was taken, and for the first time in weeks, she sees it spark. Just a little bit. Just enough. 

Merlin squeezes Morgana in a tight hug, and Morgana, crying with the relief, hugs him back. She’s missed him.

“I have to go,” She tells him when she lets go.

“What?” Merlin instantly begins to panic. Morgana rushes to explain, terrified that she’s going to lose the trust she’s only just gained. 

“Remember the issues with dream transference?” Morgana asks him, and after a pause, he nods, watching her carefully. “I have to wake up, but I’ll be there when you do too. Just wake up, Merlin. You’re safe.” She’s still holding his hand when the smoke surrounding them starts to swirl, faster and faster, closing in, until she can’t see Merlin anymore. 

With a jolt, Morgana finds herself back in Gaius’s chambers, staring at the ceiling. 

Leon is by her side before she can blink. “Are you okay?” he helps her sit up, a hand on her waist and on her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Morgana sighs. She thinks she is, surprisingly. “A little dizzy, maybe?” 

Gwen meets her on her other side with a cup of tea, which Morgana accepts, only now noticing that her hands are shaking fiercely. 

Merlin is still asleep when she looks over, Arthur by his cot. Arthur is staring intently at Merlin, his hand absentmindedly carding through Merlin’s dark hair. 

“He should be waking up any minute now, sire.” Gaius says, and looks over at Morgana with a reassuring smile. 

Merlin doesn’t wake up right away. Or in five minutes. Or ten. An hour passes, and none of them have moved. Arthur, by Merlin’s side, Morgana sandwiched by Gwen and Leon, and Gaius at the table, watching over the sleeping boy, who Morgana knows is the closest Gaius ever came to having a child. 

With every passing cloud that grays out the moonlight illuminating their faces, Morgana feels the panic building. What if she didn’t do it? What if he doesn’t believe her?

Just as the sun cracks the darkness, Merlin’s eyes open with a gasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took me ages to write, but finally, we have some plot! some movement! hopefully i can wrap this up with one more chapter, but it's possible i may add another or an epilogue.


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehe sorry for the long wait. here's the happy ending i promised, though there's still just a lil angst mixed in.

Merlin sits up slowly. Something’s different. His head feels foggy, clouded, and for the first time in weeks he doesn’t wake up in fear. 

What can’t he remember? 

“Merlin?” a small, female voice pipes up from behind him, but he doesn’t jump, doesn’t flinch. Morgana.  _ Morgana. _

The memories come flooding back. Morgana, using dream transference, using magic to get to him and show him the truth. He’s  _ safe _ . They found him. 

“Morgana!” the name bursts out of his mouth like a sob, and before he can stop himself, Merlin turns and throws himself at her. She catches him, and then he realizes that he is sobbing, tears streaming. They sink to the floor of Gaius’ chamber, holding each other. “Thank you.” His voice is raw.

“Oh, Merlin, thank God.” Morgana is crying too, and rocking the two of them back and forth, one hand in Merlin’s hair. He clutches her and sobs. 

It takes him a moment to realize where he is, who’s around him. 

When Morgana finally lets him go he hugs Gwen, and then Gaius(the man is crying, and for the life of him Merlin can’t remember the last time he saw Gaius cry), and then Merlin notices Arthur, standing in the corner of the room, as far from Merlin as he can get, staring.

Merlin tries to smile at him, but Arthur runs for the door. Merlin can’t do anything other than watch him go, confused.

Gaius sighs. “This… hasn’t been easy on him, my boy. Give him time.”

Merlin just nods, unsure of what to say, and allows himself to just be happy to finally feel safe, embracing a crying Gwen again.

“How do you feel?” Morgana asks, and Merlin thinks about that for a moment. He finds that his memories are foggy, mostly because he can’t really tell which parts are real and which are fake, so they’re all covered in a dream like haze that leaves Merlin trying to piece together exactly what’s happened over the last few weeks. But that constant fear, that nausea inducing panic is gone. He looks at Morgana and his heart rate doesn’t pick up, he doesn’t feel like he’s in danger. 

Merlin smiles. “I’m good.” he tells her, honestly. She returns his smile. “Where are…” he starts, just realizing that the room is emptier than he’d imagined it to be. 

“The knights?” Morgana finishes, and when he nods she smiles and opens the door. There is a puddle of nights asleep in the hallway, and Merlin grins. His legs are a little weak and Gwen watches him cautiously, but he makes his way out into the hallway, crouches down, and pokes Gwaine’s cheek. 

An eye pops open. Gwaine blinks once, twice, and then Merlin sees the exact moment that his best friend recognizes him.

“Merlin!” Gwaine exclaims. He jumps to his feet and lunges to hug Merlin, only to freeze halfway to him and frown, as if asking for permission. 

Merlin closes the distance and hugs Gwaine. Gwaine stays frozen for a moment and then he’s squeezing Merlin so tight that Merlin’s worried his ribs are going to break. Gwaine pulls far enough back for long enough to look Merlin in the eyes - for a moment it’s like Gwaine is seeing  _ him  _ again, like he’s been somewhere else- and to touch a hand to his cheek, and then he’s hugging him again. 

Percival has to pry Gwaine from Merlin so the rest of the knights can take their turns.

* * *

Lancelot goes with him to gather herbs the next day(Merlin pretends not to notice that there has been at least one knight with him since he woke up), but the man hasn’t said a word, even long after they’ve left the city walls. He walks a step behind Merlin the whole way, hand on the hilt of his sword, and drops back into position every time Merlin tries to pause and match step with him. 

Merlin’s finally decided that he’s not having it. 

He turns on his heel so quickly that Lancelot slams into him, but Merlin doesn’t acknowledge it as Lancelot sputters and catches his balance.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Lance, but I really prefer you as my friend, not as my guard dog.” It’s a little harsher than Merlin had intended it to come out, but the point stands. He watches as Lancelot’s face goes from confusion to defensive to guilty in the span of a few moments, and waits. 

Lancelot sighs. “Sorry, Merlin. It’s just… it’s been a long few weeks.” Merlin raises an eyebrow, and continues to wait. With a silence between them and an expectant look from Merlin, Lancelot caves. “You screamed in your sleep. Every night. You screamed our names, but it wasn’t for us to help you. It was because in your head,  _ we  _ were the ones hurting you.” Lancelot looks disgusted and ashamed, shaking his head at the memories. “And I was  _ powerless  _ to help you, Merlin. Completely powerless. I became a knight because I want to help people. Anyone. Everyone. So what am I if the person who matters  _ most  _ to me, my  _ best friend _ , is hurting, and there’s nothing I can do?” Lancelot’s eyes well with tears, and break down Merlin’s resolve. 

Sure, Morgana had filled him in some, and Gaius too, on what he’d been like(and he does remember parts of it, but in an out-of-body sort of way, like it happened but it wasn’t  _ him _ , not really), but seeing the look on Lancelot’s face as he recalls Merlin’s screams is too much for Merlin to see his friend go through and remain angry with him. 

Merlin hugs him, and Lancelot tucks his face against Merlin’s tunic. “I’m here now,” Merlin tells him, tightening his grip. “I’m here now, and I’m okay, and if you want to help me, you can enjoy a day with your best friend instead of treating me like I’m made of glass, kay?”

Lancelot huffs a laugh and sniffles as he pulls away, and Merlin pretends like he doesn’t see Lance wipe at his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Merlin looks into Lancelot’s eyes, and Lancelot nods. He ruffles Merlin’s hair with a gloved hand. Merlin swats him away and they both laugh.

Lancelot tries his best not to hover too closely for the rest of the afternoon, and to his credit, Merlin tries his best not to notice when Lance does. 

* * *

Percival finds him in the armory shining Arthur’s helmet, and hangs in the doorway, hesitant, until Merlin notices him. 

“Perce!” Merlin greets with a bright smile, and Percival tries to calm his anxious heart. He hasn’t been alone with Merlin since the young servant woke up, three days ago, and though he knows what he wants to say, his flighty voice has abandoned him once again. 

Merlin has never been impatient or rude with the quiet knight, always content to sit in silence, and he offers the same repose now, finishing his work on the helmet and moving on to the breastplate before Percival manages to begin.

“Merlin,” he says, and just like that Merlin puts down his task and focuses on Percival, who forces down the guilt fighting its way up his throat. “I just wanted to… apologize.”

Merlin frowns. “For what?” 

“For… letting you down.” Percival mumbles, and Merlin stares at him. Percival shifts, uncomfortable under the piercing gaze of the sorcerer. Is this Merlin rejecting his apology? Is this Merlin shocked that Percival would even try to apologize? His anxiety is building and building as Merlin stares at him and then- Merlin bursts into laughter, and Percival is left dumbfounded, utterly flabbergasted at his friend’s reaction. 

“Um, Merlin?” Percival tries, as Merlin begins to calm down, and the warlock catches his breath.

“You didn’t, Percival, you didn’t.” Merlin tells him.

“I… I did,” Percival insists, baffled. “I couldn’t… I didn’t…” he finds again that his words have left him, and Merlin sobers up after a moment, watching Percival with bright, genuine eyes, fully understanding the breadth of what Percival means without needing the words.

“Perce, I was kidnapped,” Merlin says softly, and Percival’s heart constricts at the mere mention. “And I know that that was terrible, and I know that you would’ve stopped it if you could’ve. But I don't blame you. The only person to blame is the man who took me, and we both know how that went for him.” Merlin smiles softly, but Percival’s too lost in his own mind to reciprocate. 

“I don’t blame you,” Merlin says again. “You’re a big part of the reason I made it through.”

Percival looks at him, waiting for some sign that Merlin’s being anything less than honest, lying to protect Percival’s honor. As always, he sees nothing of the sort. Percival smiles.

He sits next to Merlin and Merlin picks up the armor and polish again, handing Percival a shin guard and cloth, and just like that Percival’s heart beats a little more steadily than it has in weeks.

* * *

Arthur has barely been calling on Merlin, and technically he hasn’t worked a full day since his return - when they’re in the same room, Arthur barely meets his eyes. Morgana, (lovingly) calling her brother an idiot, tries to keep Merlin busy. He and Gwen run errands together, and he often dines with Morgana(and sometimes Leon).

Leon has always been surprisingly hard to read for Merlin, but he’s the knight that Merlin gets back to normal with the easiest. Merlin tracks him down on the fifth day, stacking shields outside the armory. 

Leon nods at him, serene as ever, and just for a second, it’s awkward.

“Did I-” Merlin starts. “Did I really throw a pot at your head?” He asks, and Leon’s face cracks into a smile. They both burst into laughter, toppling over with the force of it. When they fall quiet, Leon looks at Merlin for a long moment.

“I’m really glad you’re back,” Leon says, and Merlin smiles. 

“Me too.”

Merlin hands Leon the last few shields. Leon speaks up when Merlin turns to leave. 

“I’ve known Arthur nearly his entire life,” Leon says, “and for all his pride, that boy hasn’t an ounce of real confidence. If he thinks… he won’t be the first, if he thinks he’ll get hurt. After what he said to you, he can’t possibly come to you first.”

Merlin’s brain spins for a minute until he realizes Leon’s talking about Arthur saying he loves Merlin. Morgana had told him, but she didn’t know enough to tell him  _ how  _ Arthur meant it and Merlin has always been one to err on the side of caution. But Leon seems sure it meant something very real to Arthur, that much is evident in the hard set of his face. 

Merlin nods. 

“You know, you could just call him an idiot.” Merlin jokes, stealing a surprised laugh from Leon.

“You’re a braver man than I, Merlin.” 

* * *

Even with Leon’s vote of confidence, it takes Merlin a day and change to work up the nerve to confront Arthur.

He finds Arthur on the training field, whaling on a straw dummy with a sword. Arthur’s been out here more and more, reaching unusual even for the hardheaded King. 

“Hate for that to be me,” Merlin comments drily as Arthur delivers the dummy yet another would-be lethal blow. Merlin’s stopped counting, but he’s pretty sure the dummy’s died upwards of fifteen times just since Merlin came out to watch. Arthur, evidently, hadn’t known that Merlin was there, and nearly topples over he turns so quickly. 

“Merlin!” Arthur exclaims. Merlin doesn’t respond, just walks over to Arthur’s stuff and rearranges the tangled armor straps, as Arthur is apparently incapable of managing on his own.

“Then again,” Merlin muses, “it’d be hard for you to hit me with a sword when you refuse to be in the same room as me, so I guess I’m safe.” 

Arthur’s cheeks flush. “I’ve been busy.” He says, and Merlin lifts an eyebrow. 

“With what?” Merlin presses, and the blond splutters.

“... Work!” he responds, and Merlin could honestly use a go at the practice dummy at this point. He thinks the conversation will be about as productive.

Merlin just sighs. “Very well, continue.” Arthur gives him a  _ damn right I will  _ type look and turns again, pulling Excalibur from where he’d stuck it in the dirt. “By the way,” Merlin calls, “I love you too.”

Arthur freezes, back to Merlin. 

Merlin waits a moment, and a moment more, and rolls his eyes. “Did you hear me, clotpole? I said I lo-” he doesn’t get to finish, because Arthur takes a running starts and hugs him so hard they both fall over. 

“Ow,” Merlin groans, lifting his head from the dirt. 

Arthur also lifts his head from the pillow that is Merlin’s chest, and Merlin sombers when he sees the tear tracks taking shape on Arthur’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispers, one hand curling at the nape of Merlin’s neck, and Merlin can believe then that Arthur is sorry for so much more than the ache in Merlin’s head, and Merlin forgives him, in the absolute sense of the word. 

“It’s okay,” Merlin tells him. Arthur kisses him there, on the grass, and Merlin realizes that it really is okay. 

He’s okay.

They’re okay. 

He’s home. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
